


so afraid

by darkmagicians



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hank's POV, hank is done with connor's shit, no chance no way connor won't say he's deviant, the shit is denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 23:36:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15254559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmagicians/pseuds/darkmagicians
Summary: "Androids don't feel fear," Hank had snorted derisively earlier that week."Deviants do," Connor had corrected.(a scene that follows up on Connor admitting he felt fear post Stratford Tower rooftop encounter.)





	so afraid

Connor was uncharacteristically silent on the ride from Stratford Tower back to the station. This suited Hank just fine as he could hear Connor's voice clearly enough in his own head, the blaring radio unable to drown it out.

 

_"I felt it die...”_

 

"Androids don't feel fear.” He’d said derisively earlier that week.

 

" _Like I was dying.”_

 

"Deviants do.” Connor had corrected, making one of his goofy faces.

 

_"I was scared."_

 

Connor’s voice breaking, led flashing red, folded in on himself over the PL600’s body. Connor's face beyond the barrel of his gun, standing in a frozen park as snow fell unmelting upon him.

 

_"I would certainly find it... regrettable. If I were to be interrupted before I could finish the investigation."_

 

Looking back on it as days passed, not to mention as he was more sober, recalling that night at the bridge made something in-between guilt and shame twist in his gut. But his own character flaws weren't the primary cause of his rising unease at the moment.

 

Hank would be lying, of course, if he claimed the events he'd been seeing unfold over the last few days hadn't been changing his mind about androids. What had always bothered him the most about androids was how empty they'd been. It was beyond unnerving for something that looked perfectly human to look at you with nothing in its eyes, trying to guess at the proper motions, the right tone of voice.

 

Guessing how to tell you it was ‘ _sorry about your loss_ ’ while it felt nothing because there was _nothing there._ He'd never seen anything like the yawning despair of Ortiz's android, covered in blood and abuse, the fierceness of the Tracis, practically naked but unapologetic in the snow.

 

He'd never seen anything like Connor, eyes soft while he spoke with a bone deep resignation to the certainty that for him, there was nothing after death. _Nothing._

 

It was enough to make Hank wonder what exactly they were doing even without the fucking androids hacking the TV station and outright demanding personhood and equal rights. As far as Hank was concerned, if it walked and talked and cried and loved like a human, maybe everyone _should_ be thinking twice about treating them like goddamn roombas. But then there was Connor, insisting at every turn they weren't alive with a passion that at times sounded like frustration, or maybe even desperation. He glanced sideways at his partner, who was staring expressionless past the windshield. Inscrutable, when he wanted to be, and maybe in general. Hank had almost instantly given up on keeping track of what was going through Connor's head because it was always baffling and sometimes straight up alien. What had happened earlier seemed different though, important, so of course for once the android wasn't volunteering his thoughts.

 

_"But are you afraid to die, Connor?"_

 

_"I was scared."_

 

Hank tapped the steering wheel irregularly. 

 

Fucking androids.

 

* * *

 

They'd finished registering the new evidence from the morning's incident, the deactivated PL600 placed in the evidence locker alongside the rest. The doors slid shut with a heavy hiss, and Connor watched it for a second with a neutral expression before turning back the way they came. Hank didn't move, leaning casually back against the console instead.

 

"So. Connor." Connor paused and looked over his shoulder, a brow raising quizzically. 

 

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

 

"You told me once that androids don't feel fear." 

 

He may as well have straight up flipped a switch on his android partner. Connor's not inconsiderable attentions were suddenly entirely on him, body following his line of focus slowly like a predator sliding into position. He looked Hank dead in the eyes. Hank was suddenly reminded that almost all of the deviants they'd encountered had murdered at least one human. Well, except the crazy pigeon one. But that in and of itself was a symptom of deep instability, as far as Hank was concerned. It had probably only been a matter of time. Fucking _pigeons._  

 

Anyway, here he was alone in the evidence locker, secluded from the rest of the station, with a super unstoppable robocop's attention 110% on him. About to specifically ask him about the kind of shit that he had seen other androids kill over in their desperation to hide from it.

 

"That is... correct." Connor said slowly. Hank would bet money Connor was scanning him. For what, _that_  he couldn't say.

 

"Yet earlier you admitted you were scared." Hank said, trying to seem way more nonchalant than he felt. The longer Connor just stared at him, completely still, the more he wondered if he'd made a mistake. The potentially fatal kind.

 

"That is correct." Connor said after a moment, his stare a little less intense. "I believe I was experiencing some residual shared sense of fear from interfacing with the deviant as he died."

 

Hank stared at Connor. That was such bullshit.

 

"That is such _bullshit._ " He snorted. Connor's eyebrows rose.

 

"Lieutenant?"

 

"I have literally looked into your eyes while I pointed a gun at you Connor - which I shouldn't have done by the way - and you're going to stand here and pretend that then or today you weren't afraid?" 

 

"It's not pretending." Connor said, a little quickly. Like how he'd spoken when admitting he 'just couldn't' shoot the Tracis even when they'd been two feet away from him. Defensive. "I don't feel fear." 

 

"Right." Hank nodded, starting to get a little annoyed. "You'd just find it _regrettable._ If you died." Connor stared at him, almost visibly calculating responses. Hank pushed off of the console, stepping a little closer to Connor. "What would happen to you, Connor, if Cyberlife decided that your part in this investigation was over? Or that you'd failed one too many times?"

 

"I haven't failed yet." Connor said, gaze flickering back and forth from Hank's face.

 

"I said what if, smartass. Use that fancy predictive tech or whatever you've got and give me an answer." Hank was standing directly in front of Connor now. 

 

"If it was deemed I'd failed the mission beyond acceptable parameters," Connor started, "...my personality program would be suspended and I would be returned to Cyberlife. My series would be canceled and I would be permanently deactivated." He finished quietly.

 

"You would die." Hank insisted. Connor looked at him with the tired kind of frustration borne from having to repeat something several times (to a stupid human).

 

"I can't..." _I can't die._  He'd heard it before. Connor didn't finish the statement this time though. He let it hang there for a second, then something seemed to occur to him. He switched tactics the way Hank had seen him do in questionings, an abrupt and total adjustment of his demeanor and tone. "I haven't failed yet. Not that I've had much help from you, Lieutenant. You seem hell bent on letting every deviant we encounter die or escape without getting any closer to answers."

 

"Connor -"

 

"Most of the deviants we've encountered have _killed people_ , and yet you persist in this behavior." Connor eyed him like a suspect he was circling in the interrogation room, sharp and narrow. "How do you justify that?" 

 

"Connor -" 

 

"If you feel that I'm exhibiting unacceptable or troubling behaviors, you may take your concerns to Cyberlife. And if I felt you were unnecessarily inhibiting the investigation, maybe someone would let Captain Fowler - or the public - know that a certain DPD cop is letting dangerous, defective  _machines_ go free instead of bothering to put an ounce of effort into getting answers for the living breathing families of actual people _._ "

 

Hank gaped at Connor.

 

"Are you - are you trying to  _blackmail_ me?" Connor gazed at him evenly. Hank was almost reconsidering having never punched him in the face. "You know what? Fuck you. I don't _care_  if you're starting to -" _feel_  "- give a shit about anything, you absolute jackass, I just thought that if you needed to talk about the fact that with every day that passes you're getting much closer to being like a deviant than a machine yourself, you might want to talk that over with a - with a _friend._ But fuck you." He brushed past Connor, who was now the one looking shell shocked. "Fuck you!" Connor grabbed his arm before he got two steps away, and he froze. "Let me go."

 

"Lieutena- Hank."

 

"Let me go, Connor."

 

"I think I've miscalculated."

 

"You _think?_ " He shook his arm. Connor didn't let go. Hank pondered his options for getting away from the emotionally stunted terminator here and concluded unless he was willing to threaten Connor with his gun, an empty threat at this point and Connor would know it, he didn’t have any. He settled for turning to glare at his complete idiot of a partner, who now wouldn't meet his eyes.

 

"If I were deviant," he started, stressing the if, "I would also be returned to Cyberlife and deactivated. I can't be afraid."

 

"Right," Hank said, rolling his eyes. Connor gently squeezed his arm.

 

"Listen. Cyberlife would deactivate me.  _I can't be afraid_." He repeated, carefully enunciating the last part. He looked at Hank searchingly.

 

Hank paused, starting to grasp what Connor was saying. _Oh._ He thought. And then: _Huh._

 

"But if I was... I would very much like to have a friend. To talk to about it." Connor looked at him sheepishly and a bit hopefully, eyes soft. Hank stared at him for a moment, just to get across that he was monumentally unimpressed with how this idiot made friends, and heaved a sigh.

 

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" Who programmed the puppy dog eyes look into this robot, seriously. Ugh. He huffed a sigh as his expression changed from annoyed incredulity to something disgustingly close to exasperated fondness. "Anytime, Connor." 

**Author's Note:**

> janelle monae's so afraid was partially the inspiration for this, as was this gifset: http://ruella.tumblr.com/post/175374025962/androids-dont-feel-fear
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♡


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